"Silence," said the demon to the other as they circled, "the young boy is trying to think - the final thoughts course through his mind, even now as we speak,"
"No," the other cried, "I want him now, let's pick this fruit while it's ripe,"
Faced each other and smiled: "Let's wait a little while; he's ours, we'll
take our time."
Donald felt a chill crawling up and down his spine, like a once warm vein gone cold, He could feel an icy breeze, but no wind shook the trees, so from where the breeze came Donald did not know,
So he tried to shake the cold, thinking back an hour ago to a decision he had made: there'd be no Christ in his precious little life - this decision he would take beyond his grave.
The world went black; Donald couldn't breath and his face turned a sickening blue, Grasping for sight, he saw something in the night,
And around him two images flew; slowly getting clearer, he could see them getting
nearer,
Donald screaming as they spat in his face,
"Welcome to Hell; we'll be with you shortly, but now: the abiding place."
There is more to the story, but really don't you worry - Donald's fate is surely sealed, He chose to stand alone, to stand upon his own, but now the truth he'll find too real,
You see, we all have to choose - you follow God or follow you,
Donald chose to chase his pleasures from the start, to ride atop the world, serve no God, just him...but the ride was cut short by a speeding car,
Anyone else want a ride?